What It Means To Get Even
by sineadxrose
Summary: It was never a good idea to double cross a pirate and Emma Swan was soon to learn the repercussions she would inevitability face, bestowed upon her by courtesy of one scorned, vengeful Hook. KillianXSwan
1. Prologue

_Girl you really got me bad  
You really got me bad  
Now I'm gonna get you back  
I'm gonna get you back_

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

"Oi, you!" Killian Jones snarled at Emma Swan's retreating form. Anger was laced into every syllable he uttered, his teasing and flirtations having dissipated quickly, good humor gone, once he had found out he had been double-crossed.

Really, it was a joke. He would soon be known as a laughing stock rather then the manipulative, intellectual pirate that he really truly was at heart. Ridiculous-Captain Hook becoming the victim not the perpetrator, the betrayed and not betrayer. Karma was a bitch. And his reputation would soon be in tatters.

However, it did provide him a small comfort to know that she, at least, actually feared him. He could see it- since she was practically bloody _fleeing _from him like bleedin' plague— she realized the repercussions she was going to inevitability face, bestowed upon her by courtesy of one scorned, vengeful Hook.

"EMMA!" he roared once more for good measure. He wrenched at the bloody chains, their cursed jangling and clinking echoing in his ears.

She cast one look back at him, her blue blazing eyes glimmering with a touch of guilt and pleading—they were screaming at him really—_I'm sorry_—they seemed to say-_it had to be done._

"Love", he hollered after her, "once I get out of here all the apologies in the world won't save you"

Her golden locks were eventually swallowed up into the distance and he was left muttering profanities under his breathe at the damn woman who had bested him not once, but _twice._

Color him angry.

And impressed.

_Eight Hours later * * *_

* * *

Killian Jones was not a patient man.

And to be cuffed, completely alone-with no form of entertainment to boot, for ten hours straight was his worst possible idea of torture.

_Hell could not be worse than this_, Killian thought idly. As the hours had steadily progressed, his lethargy had incessantly increased, slowly possessing his emotionally fueled state, making him complacent and bored. Even his anger could not last at that heightened state for so long. Instead, he was now draped against the wall with his legs tossed carelessly about, barely upright.

He had tried to strike a conversation with the giant, once he had found out that the beast had no intention of killing him. The giant's retort in why he wouldn't kill him however, made Killian snort with incredulity. Naturally, the giant was merely doing Emma a favor. Of course, because that makes perfect sense, Killian thought scathingly.

"I'm promised Emma a favor" The giant had said solemnly. "So you won't die by my hands".

_A favor! _Killian had thought indignantly.

_Really, they were on first name basis? The beast referred to her as Emma, really?_

How in the sevens hell had she managed to talk her way into getting a favor of all things? Spare her life, maybe. But a favor? She wasn't even that charismatic- he was the charmer for Chrissake and yet, all his charm and good behavior had not made the beast release him early. He couldn't even get a smile out of the giant.

No, the giant had grudgingly and dismissively told him to be quiet or else he would disregard the favor and just eat him.

That had wiped the smirk off the pirate's face.

How someone could steal into a giant's domain with the agenda of thieving from the beast and leave with a nice pat on the back, a cheery wave, and a request was beyond him. It was damn well irritating. She had also left with the item she was trying to thieve in the first place! No consequences to her name at all. No consequences except the one's he himself would happily treat her to. She would bloody regret this moment and her miserable existence.

Still, Killian supposed, things could be a lot worse. All in all all things were fine and dandy. He would be free to go in ten hours. Free to seek her out. He would try to keep in mind that Swan hadn't tried to end his life. Just detain him. That was slightly heart-warming. He would return the gesture by not killing her.

But he lived by the moment, and at this impromptu moment in time, he was bored. And his mind had zeroed in on the Emma Swan girl. He could picture her in his mind's eye and the familiar sense of arousal would tighten in his groin when he did.

He could see the fiery spirit burning in her bright eyes. That was a quality he always found sexually attractive in a woman.

He wanted her.

He also wanted to seek his revenge on her.

Killian Jones smirked. Who ever said he couldn't have and enjoy both?

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**What do you think? Please please review if you enjoyed it or have a critique! It's a push of a button away and gives me incentive to write! XXXXX**


	2. Escape

_Would you love a Monster man?_

_Could you understand beauty of the beast?_

* * *

Killian Jones, more notoriously known as Captain Hook, it should be understood—was an inherently selfish person. And while the majority of individuals were lucky enough to grow out of that instinctual selfishness and learn to reciprocate emotions of care and love that had been bequeathed upon them – his life had not been so lucky. His life experience had taught him a completely different story.

Luck was for fools.

Rage was fuel.

And prioritizing one's own desires before anything or anyone else of consequence was the only guarantee in getting what one wanted.

Whether the action encompassed murder, betrayal, thieving, lies, or force—he would commit them all. Killian would kill someone in the blink of an eye if it was for his benefit. And he would show no remorse for it. It would all be done in order to be one step closer to 'skinning his crocodile' so to speak. He did not care how distorted and shredded his soul grew, the dark one would die by his hand.

Hook was a fitting nickname for a charming, deceitful monster. He was aware of that conclusion himself. He knew he was a monster. He knew what was wrong and what was right but knowing and caring are simply to different things. And he didn't care. The man was a complex enigma who was outrageously flirtatious, witty, and charming as he was morbidly dark and twisted. And that was all wrapped up together in the form of the obscurely handsome Killian Jones whose exterior exemplified confidence and strutting cockiness while a layer of hypocritical self-loathing burned on his insides.

He tried to convince himself he was satisfied. A life revolving around materialistic pleasures and superficial desires was a fulfilling one. He had told himself this mantra so many times that he almost believed it. It was a life worth living.

But really, deep down, he knew he was already dead inside. Darkness had consumed him. He didn't fear death because he was already there. He was running on empty. No, he was running on revenge. And he honestly did not know, once he the deed of revenge was sated- what would become of him. What would drive him? Would he be crushed under the weight of all his kills? Would he finally feel accomplished after spending half his life hunting down to finally succeed in murdering him? Would he feel relief? Despair? The loss of Milah all over again? He did not know.

All he knew was that, until then, why not enjoy every hedonistic pleasure of the sinful living. He was going to hell either way. There was no redemption for the likes of him.

.

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* * *

**CHAPTER ONE**

The rain poured unwaveringly and heavily upon his already soaked form. Killian was chilled to the bone, aching, breathtakingly numb, and uncannily clumsy. The cold made his usual nimble reflexes something of an oafish resemblance so that he consistently lose his grip, slipping and sliding down the beanstalk. Yet, throughout it all, he retained a concentrated focus of grim pleasure. He was lost in this trance-like state and kept up a steady decline down the giant's bean stalk amid the horrendous hurricane-like weather circulating about him.

He enjoyed the physical labor and the harshness of it. The exhaustion stopped him from thinking, leaving his mind in a blissful fog of exertion. He enjoyed the peace of mind, of not thinking three steps ahead- which was all very rare for him. It had all dwindled down to pure survival. If he didn't concentrate, the turbulent weather would make him plunge to his death. Nature did not care for him after all.

The wind cut into his cheek like scorching kisses, the vines slapping against his body, blood trickled down his one hand while bruises formed gently down his body. His muscles clenched as he held onto the slippery ropes with every fiber of his being. His dark hair was plastered to his brow, the rain mingling with his sheen of sweat. Even through the deadly circumstances, Killian could not stop the smile that slowly spread across his face. Living life on the edge was almost akin to feeling again, to being alive. It was moments like this, where he could actually feel the fear of death, to realize that he was still a human being….capable of emotions- if he let himself be susceptible to them.

He was free, released, and no longer to be shackled. He was free to torture her, run his sharp hook against her trembling, soft skin and pretty doe eyes. Free to get the damn compass back so he was no longer be tethered to this land. His blazing blues eyes blazed with vivaciousness and feral excitement.

_Darling, you don't know what you've gotten yourself into. You did two things any fool would never do to any form of pirate. You betrayed me and you captured my intrigue for you._

And make no mistake, he was intrigued by her. A challenge from a woman, so refreshingly resilient to his charms was like foreplay for him. It was a game.

Once safely on ground vicinity, Killian knew he would have to move fast. Cora would be seeking him. Thirsty for her own revenge of being double-crossed. He was no longer trustworthy to her. And the old wench did not easily have the wool pulled over her eyes, in a matter of speaking. The thought alone increased his already reckless pace. He hated to run but he knew a losing battle when he saw one. He would lose. He was no match for her magical abilities.

Killian scowled at the thought. Magic was trickery. It made the weak strong. It was a cheat. All the physical toil of sweat, blood, and pain to have strength was still no match for the cheap tricks of magic. But He would find a way to kill the bitch. Cora was to powerful, too much like a snake to trust. But at the moment, he would evade Cora and he would find Emma Swan and her lackeys first. As his feet finally touched solid ground, he pushed his protesting muscles into a sprint.

.

.

* * *

Emma Swan stared resolutely into the darkness. Her long blonde hair was matted to her face due to the hellish heavy forecast of rain, her body raking with shivers from the cold. Mud had drenched her form through the many hours of traveling. Still, Emma held her chin up in that familiar stubborn fashion she was so accustomed to, amid the exhaustion that was wreaking havoc across her body.

_She would not fall asleep. She would watch over her friends. It was her turn._

She had been adamant before, telling them to get some sleep. Her mother wanted to coddle her and Mulan thought she was weak, but Emma wanted to prove to both of them that she was a grown woman, capable of taking care of others.

_I won't fall asleep. _

Emma told herself this mantra repeatedly as she watched their sleeping forms with determination. They looked worse for wear themselves. Scratches decorated their bodies and they to, were shivering. Her eyes lingered on Mary-Margaret's huddled unconscious form and she felt increasingly worse. That selfless woman- _her mother- _was suffering and she, Emma could do nothing to help. The only action she had been able to do was place her leather jacket across the shivering woman's body, hoping that when Mary-Margret woke up, she would understand this was her daughter's way of expressing concern, gratitude, and love.

Words and expressive feelings did not come so easily to her as they did her mother. And she sighed as she thought about how, throughout the day, she had refused to share her emotions.

Refused to be coddled.

Rejected this woman's selfless desire to love her.

It was a strange situation to be sure but Emma was too tired to linger on this topic for long. She had to resolve whatever her and Mary-Margaret's relationship was at some later point in time. Preferably when she wasn't so afraid to die by Cora's hand-or Hook's, for that matter.

As she continued to think and stare into the dark abyss of night, Emma's hand absentmindedly twisted the silver piece of metal attached to her wrist.

The metallic link would not come off no matter how much she had tinkered with it in frustration. The thing was uncomfortably tight and it was very persistent in sticking obstinately to her like glue. If objects actually had a mind of their own, Emma would be willing to bet this thing's agenda was not to be left behind.

_Damn it all. _

It reminded her of Hook.

The stupid bugger of a bracelet had the same characteristics of the one who had given it to her in the first place.

_Annoying. Persistent. Uncomfortable. Always to close for comfort. No Boundary spaces to be heard of! _She thought indignantly.

She tugged at the bracelet as she continued with her mental list of a rant, trying to ignore her guilt by focusing on his 'bad' qualities.

Emma sighed, pressing her hands against her eyes.

_What was wrong with her? It was more of like she was trying to convince herself that those qualities were bad. _

Again guilt attempted to surge up her body and she stifled it down.

In the next few hours, Emma Swan continued to self-justify her actions to herself. Also knowing, with increasing aggravation, one only tried to self-justify in order to console oneself that they had done the right thing. But in reality all it proved was that she was not a hundred percent sure of her choices.

.

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* * *

**So I hope you enjoyed it. This story will not be following the TV series, at least not completely. It'll be my own take of the story and it starts when Emma Swan leaves Hook on the top of the beanstalk, just for clarification's sake.  
**

**Anyway, tell me what you think please! A review is always appreciated.  
**


	3. Walking in Shadows

_I thought this was just a phase_

_But every day I slip, starting over_

_You crawl through my skin_

* * *

**CHAPTER 3.**

Hands in his waist coat pockets, as nonchalant as could be; Killian Jones flitted like a shadow throughout the woods. His profession as a pirate had naturally adjusted him into being a stealthy and cunningly quiet human being. And now that Killian had found what he sought, he was perfectly content trailing behind the little group before finding the perfect moment to strike. He could be patient.

Occasionally.

He smirked as he watched them, the four women being completely oblivious to his presence and dark attentions. With no need to put on his pretense of a charming façade, he was free to scrutinize them without worry of his own particular expression- which had grown more malicious, feral, and manipulative by the second. Calculating his next move, Killian watched and assessed them.

The four were completely different in a variety of ways yet they still held that same spark of ferociousness on their countenances. Even the most docile of them all, the renowned _Sleeping Beauty, _had an emblem of rebellion on her gentle porcelain face.

His eyes lingered on her.

_Aye. _She was a beautiful lass without question. The Sleeping Beauty had probably captured many a man's attention with her thick head of auburn silk locks, almond-shaped hazel eyes, and curvaceous figure. But her demeanor was the not one that captured him. She was the clichéd typical princess that was dotted upon all her life with a grating voice to boot. She was weak. A kitten with sharp claws. No matter if she batted and scratched away, she could cause minimal damage. She was easily subdued. Nothing he couldn't handle. All fluff and no bite.

Killian grinned at the thought of how easy it would be to bait her- taunting and intimidating the weak being one of his favorable forms of entertainment- before his flicking his gaze to the other woman glued to her side.

The one assisting the Sleeping Beauty throughout the journey, with unrelenting patience he might add, was Mulan to be sure. She was a figure he could scrounge up some respect for. He was not one to deem women inferior like his comrades. Killian determined a person's worth, regardless of gender, by his or her actions. A woman could be just as malicious and calculating then any male brute. He would know. He remembered from his own past experience. His hand fondled the scar on his wrist, a wound by a vindictive wench who had seduced him into heavy-lidded stupor of lust before attempting to kill him.

Mulan's actions had proven her to be a worthy competitor. Still, as he looked upon her rigidly strict and deadpan expression, he found her to be completely foreign in manner, compared to his own.

_A barrier of laughs, that one_. He thought- looking upon her terse and overly sour expression. He would never be inclined to take her down to "the local pub" so to speak for a light-hearted chat. _Dull as rice. Would sink my spirits lower than they already were. _He rolled his eyes before moving onto the two women who led the group.

Swan and Snow White, thick as pair of thieves.

Or, for accuracy's sake, mother and daughter.

With a glint of humor in his blue eyes, he witnessed their strange relationship and comradeship. It was something he could not fathom.

Snow White reminded him every bit of the mother hen that went about tut-tutting after her daughter. It was almost comedic really. He was sure that if he was paid a coin for every concerned look Snow White shot at her daughter, he would be able to buy the weight of ship in gold. _Twice. _As he looked upon the mother's demeanor and the fierce spark in her eyes he knew, without a doubt, the overprotective lass would die for Emma Swan. He supposed most people would see that as an admirable quality but he just found it foolish.

After Milah, all those ridiculous tendencies had been eradicated. He would never, _ever, _fall back into that illusion again. Which was why he found Emma Swan to be extremely threatening as he was, for the first time in a long while, interested in something besides himself and the crocodile he planned the butcher.

He did not like the fact that he was intrigued by her. But he could not deny his interest.

He wanted what he wanted. But perhaps after quenching his thirst of revenge and lust upon her- she would become just another faded, dusty memory that no longer sparked his interest.

No longer a shiny new toy.

It was what he prayed for. However, if any of the Gods listened to the prayers of a depraved man-that was another question entirely. But still, he prayed upon the skies. Occasionally he proffered up his bottle of rum as a bargaining chip. The latter being done only when he was completely intoxicated.

His gaze raked across her form. It bored into her with such intensity that he was almost surprised she could not feel it burning into her back. She looked tired, worn, and frail. Though she still wore that determined look of sheer stubbornness across her face, Killian noted her fragility. She looked less like a savior then he had ever known. It was laughable.

But he found her captivating. He craved her touch as much as he loathed it.

He ran a hand rakishly through his hair in frustration. He should just kill her. End his dilemma and his torment. But being a man who liked to be honest with himself, he knew he was nowhere close to actually acting on these thoughts.

He just couldn't kill her.

Killian scowled.

_For Fuck's sake. He was acting like a bloody woman himself. _

Pissed, he dug his own hook into the skin of his forearm, hissing at the sensation. As a droplet of hot blood trickled down from his fresh puncture, he let the pain of his wound snap him to his senses and think straight.

What he thought about the girl did not matter right now. At the moment, his objective was separate her from the crowd of lackeys and take her. What followed could be decided afterwards. He also knew that he could just take her now instead of following them from that morning till dusk. Killian was confident enough to know that he could best all four of them in physical skills.

It was out of sheer laziness and the unappealing notion of dealing with the over-protective mother that made him rest in the shadows. The tediousness of dealing with a battle he knew he could win whilst listening to Snow White's tenacious squawking of threats and Princess Aurora's shrilly cries put him off.

And he did not particularly want to kill the other three women. It was unnecessary. All he wanted was the girl. And although he considered himself to be a man of calloused nature, he was still not fond of unnecessarily causing deaths if there was no point or gain from it. Still, he knew he might be sorely tempted to kill them all- just to shut the lot of them up.

They were loud bunch. And they had a shit ton to say to him. Intimidation did not seem to work for his favor on the mouthy, attitude-ridden women.

It just resolved him to take Emma Swan during the night. There would be no fuss.

However, even the most well prepared plans can change. And unfortunately for Hook, his did. The pack of bandits skulking up ahead was not something he realized until it was too late. It dawned upon him that something was wrong only minutes before the incident happened. He could administer Emma Swan no warning before the thugs were literally upon the group of four.

As Killian counted the rowdy group of men from the shadows, he knew they were completely fucked, screwed, and every other word in between. The four were sorely outnumbered to their counterparts' form of fucking _thirteen. _

He cursed silently to himself. He would have to intervene and assist them or there would be no Emma Swan to capture as she would be dead.

Dammit. He always hated playing the hero. If even for a moment.

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**I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I know it is slow moving but bear with me. Interaction between Emma and Hook will soon be approaching! I appreciate all the reviews and support I've gotten for my last two chapters and hope they will continue.**

**I probably will end up re-reading and fixing any grammar mistakes I find, because I did not proof read the whole thing before putting it up. Anyway, thanks for reading! And review**

**XXXXXXX**

**SineadxRose :)**


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